


Kinktober 2017: Week One

by TheSpaceCoyote



Series: Kinktober 2017 [1]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Aphrodisiacs, Body Worship, Bodyswap, Bondage, Bukkake, Crossdressing, Cuckolding, Dubious Consent, Forniphilia, Humiliation, Knifeplay, M/M, Muscles, Public Sex, Size Difference, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: A place for all the Kinktober prompts days 1-7!





	1. Day 1: Spanking, Gayperion

Vaughn wants to not enjoy this.

He tells himself it’s just a punishment, like a parent disciplining a naughty child for breaking a toy. He keeps his hand heavy on the back of Rhys’ neck, weighing his head down and muffling his breathy moans against his knee as his hand smacks against his best friend’s bare backside. It’s slightly easier to ignore when Rhys is facing away from him, though the sight and feel of Rhys’ bare ass doesn’t help much. His skin is bright red, not yet starting to blister in that raised pattern that makes pleasure flutter through Vaughn’s chest even as his stomach sinks with guilt.

He tries to remember that Rhys _asked_ him to do this, to keep him weighted in reality when his own regret seeks to pull him away. And that made sense, in a twisted sort of way, but what _doesn’t_ make sense is the way his cock jumps and twitches whenever his hand slaps across Rhys’ ass, whenever his friend jolts and cries out at the contact. If Rhys ever notices, he doesn’t mention it, too focused on pulling those tight, jet-black clothes back on over his body, concealing the bruises and burns on his ass that Vaughn still wants to reach out and touch even when the moment has long passed.

Rhys leaves him with a small smile and a quiet, relieved _thanks_ , and as long as he tries to hold out Vaughn’s unable to stop his hands from drifting to his own crotch.


	2. Day 1: Spanking, Rhack

Rhys bruised like a peach.

It was honestly kind of fascinating to see the patterns of swelling bruises spreading over his ass, occasionally broken by skin torn and raised by the ring on Jack’s finger that helped his hand swing like a weighted pendulum down against the kid’s bare ass over and over again. He painted Rhys like a sloppy canvas, the harsh impressions of his palm and fingers blistering red as Rhys jolted and cried in his lap, rubbing his eyes uselessly against the fabric of Jack’s pants as the CEO harshly punished him.

His boner was poking awkwardly into Rhys’ stomach, his flat flesh trembling in hiccups and half-swallowed begging as Jack continued his barrage on the PA’s bottom. He kept smacking him, jolting him back and forth over his lap until the warmth twisting in his belly finally exploded, spilling out damp into the crotch of his pants. He looked down, chuckling as he noticed how hard he’d ended up gripping Rhys’ ass through his orgasm, leaving bright red crescents from the bite of his nails.

“Now,” Jack croaked, voice warbling from spent arousal as he rubbed Rhys’ ass, “what was my order, again?”

“Ah… _ah_ …” Rhys panted. Jack could practically hear him suppress his crying. It was beautiful.

“I…medium coffee….one t-third steamed milk….two wh…brown sugars.”

Jack smirked, leaning back in his chair as he left his hand resting on Rhys’ tender, abused ass.

“You bet you’re gonna get it right next time.”


	3. Day 1: Sleepy Sex, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omegaverse for this one!

“Mmm….you sure you can get it up?” Rhys mumbles, a fuzzy smile spreading across his face as warm, broad hands slip between his thighs, lifting one leg up as Jack’s cock slides in, the curve of his shaft bumping up against the underside of Rhys’ balls. Jack replies to him only with a snort, the breath tickling on the back of Rhys’ neck. The omega sighs happily as Jack’s fingers slide between his asscheeks, gathering up some slick that he uses to rub along his cock and the flesh of Rhys’ inner thighs. He lets his leg fall back into place as Jack lets go, his thighs now snug around Jack’s shaft. Rhys purrs, snuggling back into his alpha’s warmth as Jack’s broad arms wrap around him, using only the lazy strength in his hips to hump between the omega’s soft thighs.

“ _Ah_ …” Rhys moans, voice pitching up as their cocks rub together, Jack’s thick, alpha shaft framing his own slimmer member when he dared to look down the length of his body. He lets his eyes flutter close, pleasure rolling dreamily over him as he relaxes between the comfort of Jack’s body and the bed beneath them, everything smelling pleasantly of mingling hormones and alpha musk.

The both of them are far too relaxed to care about the cum drying on the sheets when they finish, merely cuddling up against one another and falling peacefully asleep to nap the rest of the morning away.


	4. Day 1: Aphrodisiacs, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack body doubles join in the fun in this one!

Getting a face-full of bright blue plant pollen was the last thing Rhys expected to happen to him today.

The cocks in his mouth and ass were slightly less surprising, considering how frequent Rhys found himself in the company of other men in order to let off some steam. He hadn’t expected any sex he would be having today to be on the floors of the R&D department, however, but he had the damn plant that he decided to look a little too closely at to thank for that, and the throbbing arousal practically burning his cock and balls from the inside out.

He had lost track of how many times he had come, or how many times someone else had came inside of him. The last thing he truly remembered outside of endless hands and tongues and pressure continually building inside of him was Jack grabbing at his face and pulling open his eyelids and swearing. Then, nothing but blurriness and heat and the distant sound of his own desperate moaning.

Distantly he prayed that one of the cocks in his mouth or ass belonged to Jack, and that the CEO had the foresight to call more trustworthy people instead of allowing the bizarre collection of personalities that ran the various R&D subsections to wet their dicks in his mouth. Rhys had enjoyed lording his attractiveness and relative charisma over them, and begging for cock like a heat-crazed animal wasn’t going to do many favors to his image.

He managed to open his watery eyes, vision dizzy and slightly tinted blue, when the cock in his throat finally pulled out, leaving a trail of slopping cum dripping down his lips and chin. Firm fingers grip his jaw in a comforting hug, drawing his fluttering eyes up to a familiar, handsome face…framed by at least ten other Jack’s all smirking down at him with an excited flush on their cheeks.

_The…the god damn plant must be making him hallucinate._

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” the Jacks’ voices all warbled in tandem, “we’ve got ya.”


	5. Day 2: Dirty Talk, Rhack

“Mmm, you’re pretty loose there, baby girl,” Jack purred, teeth just barely gracing along the curve of Rhys’ ear, “you’ve been screwing around with other guys behind my back?”

Rhys shook his head quickly. His teeth bit into his lower lip, the pain there more tolerate than the noise from grinding his molars together just to give himself something to do to distract from Jack’s patronizing tone that sent trembles of humiliation straight to his cock.

Jack had stopped moving, his cock squished up inside of Rhys, the head warm and bulbous deep inside of him as Jack’s fingers trailed around the puffy stretch of Rhys’ hole around his shaft.

“Heh. Maybe I’ve just been losing track of how many times I’ve fucked you. You tired, sweetheart? You need to stop? Take a break?”

Rhys didn’t take the bait. He shook his head again, looking over his shoulder with wet, begging eyes as he wiggled his ass back, forcing Jack’s cock to slide another inch inside of him. He whined pathetically as Jack’s broad hand stopped him short, planting firmly on his rear and preventing him from scooting back any further.

“Whoa whoa, easy there, girl, don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jack chuckled, returning Rhys’ desperate, red-rimmed glance with one of mean amusement, “guess it’s my fault you’re so damn loose huh? You’re always wanting to be fucked. Can’t tame such a little cockslut….unlesss you use some _force_.”

Jack yanked his dick out, suddenly, making Rhys cry out at both the chafe and the sudden loss of fullness, his tongue lolling dumbly out of his mouth as his fingers crunched tightly into the sheets. Sweat beaded on Jack’s forehead as he kept only the very tip of his cock-head inside of Rhys, looking down at the boy like a starving man whose manners keep him from eating when he gets his meal first. But Jack, impudent as he was, lasted only a couple straining seconds before he’s shoving back inside of Rhys, sheathing his cock up to the hilt and fucking a hoarse cry out of Rhys’ sore throat.


	6. Day 2: Forniphilia, Rhack

You understand the new CEO of Atlas to be a little….eccentric.After all, you have heard the rumors—expected, after the company’s unprompted return to prominence—and even seen the man a couple of times at company galas or major product line unveilings. His cybernetic implants make him stand out, as does both the elegant black and silver wardrobe he cycles through and his unusual penchant for melee weapons above artillery.

And apparently he also has a robot butler. Because when you arrive at the sleek black, code-locked door to his office and scan your retina, a small, silver and orange Atlas drone twitters at your presence before guiding you down the long hallway to the CEO’s unusually homely office.

It’s only when you see him sitting in a makeshift living room-set to the side of his main, sleek steel office desk, that you realize just how true some of those rumors are.

You wisely chose not to make mention of it until Rhys’ acknowledges it himself. The CEO grins pleasantly enough at you, already halfway through an oddly glowing amber drink when he invites you to sit in one of the plump chairs that smell of new leather. Quickly, the little drone returns with a similar drink and, not wanting to risk souring Rhys’ favor, you accept it with a wary sip.

You chat a little bit about the proposal, the main reason for your visit, the main reason the CEO invited you here into his most personal quarters. Your hands are sweating slightly, and the drone has started vacuuming the other side of the office, and your eyes keep flickering to where Rhys’ slickly booted feet are resting atop of his footstool, but overall you feel like you do a very good job. Rhys seems impressed and excited, at least, and when he’s says he’d be interested in having you lead the project you get cocky and decide to declare a toast. Thankfully, Rhys laughs and jingles the ice in his empty glass at the drone, which quickly zooms over and refills both of your glasses.

Rhys clinks your glass before he takes a smiling sip. He switches his ankles atop the footstool, which lets out a _grunt_.

Your eyes widen, and the smile freezes on Rhys’ face but never leaves. He straightens up in his chair, raking his heels along the ribs of the man, bound naked and on all fours in front of him. He settles his boots back on the floor, suddenly completely ignoring you and reaching down to grab the man by the chin, jerking faded blue and green eyes up to meet him.

“Footstools don’t _talk_.” You can see Rhys’ shiny, cybernetic fingertips bite into the man’s sharp cheeks, but he says nothing. Mollified, Rhys lets him go before kicking his feet back up on the man’s spine, heels scraping against the scarred skin. This time, barely a breath passes the man’s lips. Rhys laughs to clear the uneasy pause in the air, swirling the ice in his drink.

“Sorry….where were we?”


	7. Kinktober Day 3: Public, Biting, Muscles, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Werewolf AU!

It smelled like wet leaves, despite the fact that Rhys can’t remember the last time it rained.

He’d been walking out with Jack, going through the long, twilight shadows in the local park. They had passed by the occasional couple or young family, but mostly they had been alone and unbothered, enjoying each other’s company.

But then it had all gone horribly wrong.

Rhys didn’t know _why_ —maybe Jack had forgotten to take his medication this morning, or maybe there was something in the air, or maybe even someone had slipped him something nefarious earlier—but he knew the telltale signs enough to react immediately. His first instinct was to flee as Jack let out a vicious snarl, complaining about his clothes being too hot and tight as he ripped them away, but then he heard a scream of a young women in jogging shorts, pointing in horror at Jack’s increasingly hairy, muscular form. So Rhys stopped in his tracks, shoved his pants down, and shouted loudly to draw his transformed boyfriend’s attention.

Rhys knew that Jack couldn’t resist him.

He let out a small yelp as Jack’s bulk crashed into him, knocking him onto his belly as the werewolf mounted him, one clawed paw pressed against Rhys’ shoulder as he rutted his hard, thick cock against the young man’s still closed backside. Rhys whimpered as he felt thick, hot pectorals pressing against his back, pinning him down against the grass. Jack’s humid breath huffed against his neck briefly, before those long fangs bit down on the juncture between his throat and shoulder, making Rhys cry out in pleasure.

The young man prayed that any stragglers had fled the scene as his hole was stretched raw and open around the thick head of Jack’s cock as it sunk deep within his body. Jack’s powerful, hirsute frame surrounded him on all sides, its strength keeping him pinned roughly to the ground as the werewolf started to pound into him hard, leaving Rhys a moaning, twitching wreck in the middle of the otherwise calm, fall evening. 


	8. Day 3: Muscles, Rhysquez

Rhys had been admiring Hugo Vasquez for awhile now.

It was impossible not too. He liked to use the free-weights right besides the mirrors where Rhys tended to do most of his yoga stretches. He liked to admire the muscles in his legs and the shape of his butt in his pants as he bent down and extended his legs out, cat-like, over the padded floor—and apparently so did Hugo, because the burly older man loved to flex the bursting, shiny muscles of his chest and arms and watch his reflection do the same.

Rhys also did his fair amount of watching. Subtly stealing glances in the man’s direction as he grunted and groaned through every weight set taking in the way his shorts and muscle shirt were just _straining_ around his bulk. The man was the picture of bulging masculinity, not only incredibly beefy and thick but also practically covered in dark hair from head to calf. It looks soft, like a shag carpet, and Rhys just wanted to bury his face into it as those thick hips and stout belly pressed against him and fucked him _raw._ So hard Rhys would barely need his workout. That’s what he wanted.

One afternoon, he decided to be bold. He’d noticed that Hugo was starting to stare back, to occasionally meet Rhys’ coy glances with a knowing smirk. Rhys was impatient, wanting to feel those slick, bulging muscles up against him, so when he noticed Hugo wiping down the machines and heading off in the direction of the locker room, Rhys sprung up from his downward-dog position and practically skipped after him.

He watched Hugo make a beeline for the showers, his tank top already off and hanging over one broad shoulder. Rhys nearly slipped on the wet tile in his eagerness, unfortunately drawing Hugo’s attention as he pulled open the stall doors—but instead of regarding Rhys with suspicion or annoyance, a sleazy smirk stole across Hugo’s face, and with a crook of his finger he invited the young man to share a post-workout shower with him. One that Rhys was all too willing to take.


	9. Day 4: Bukkake, Knifeplay, Begging, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Space Pirate AU! Some dub/noncon in this!

“You curs are really stupid.”

Rhys kept his chin up, tongue venomous even as he was bound in the center of a circle of rough, filthy space pirates—and not the ones that he had grown used to. He had been poached from Jack’s ship by a group of rival ruffians, who were now using Rhys for their pleasure. But considering just how much Rhys had been used over the past couple of months, even their harsh words and brutal cocks as they tried to each force their way into his mouth almost made him laugh and roll his eyes. 

“Do you think Jack won’t come for me?” Rhys spat even as another men pulled out of his sloppy mouth, finishing all over the aristocrat’s already dirty, cum-streaked face. He was trembling, despite his bravado, his throat bobbing up against the blade of the pirate that was holding him at knifepoint. Occasionally the point of the knife would trail along his creamy neck, over the bulging pulse, but Rhys tried to ignore it even when the razor-sharp edge drew blood to the surface.

“Hah, the more that you harm me, the more Jack will be pisse—ah!” Rhys cried as the pirate with the knife pulled apart one of his cuts, pressing the flat of his filthy, thick tongue to lap up the aristocrat’s blood. Rhys cringed, gritting his teeth together even as one of the other pirates tried to pry open his jaws to get another cock inside. 

“C’mon, sweetie,” the pirate with the knife cooed roughly, disgusting breath blasting not Rhys’ ear, “let us hear somethin’ else other than bitchin’ in that pretty voice.”

Rhys moaned as the other pirate managed to pull his jaw open, sliding the unwashed shaft past his lips as another jerked off into his hair. He whimpered as the blade of the knife slid under his cravat, pulling taunt for a brief second before slicing through the silky material. 

“Please,” Rhys coughed roughly as the cock was yanked out of his throat, its head rubbing sloppily against his dirty cheek, “d-don’t hurt me….ah….Jack will…”

He yelped as his cravat was ripped apart, scraps of fabric falling to the floor as the laughing pirate pressed the sharp of his knife against his skinny chest. 

In the end, Jack did find them, and once he saw the state Rhys had been left in, he decided to save the guilty crew members for a special assignment. Rhys watched with a grim smile, dabbing the cum and blood off his face with his handkerchief as a cackling Jack castrated the perpetrators with his glowing, laser-sharp cutlass.


	10. Day 5: Cuckolding, Body Swap, Rhackothy

Rhys moaned, tilting his jaw up to expose more of his long, tattooed neck. His wrists were pinned up by his ears by one strong, rough hand as the other traveled down the smooth satin of his shirt, popping the little white buttons as it exposed more and more pale skin. His pants were next, deftly undone and pulled down to his knees, leaving his cock pink and half-hard standing up into the air.

Green and blue eyes glimmered up at Rhys, the young man’s freed hands now able to reach down and grab ahold of those grey-streaked locks as lips trailed up and down the shaft of his cock. Rhys shivered as the tip of his dick was taken into a warm, experienced mouth, tongue pressing up against the sensitive flesh and smearing the little bit of pre-cum that had started to build there. He gasped louder as he was taken in all the way to the base, surrounded by slick, tight warmth.

“ _Oooh_ , yeah, I could get use to this.”

“ _Jack_ ,” Rhys gasped, turning his head to the side, “are you even watching?”

And Jack was, really, _half_ _-_ watching. The other half was busy touching up and down the sculpted, tanned abs of Timothy’s body.

Rhys knew very little of how they had ended up this way aside from the generic “R&D mixup.” Truly, they could probably just be playing a trick on him, but he wasn’t made of stone and couldn’t deny that the proposal they had given him had been….sexually intriguing.

Tim pulled off of Rhys’ cock with a huff, rubbing the cum and saliva from his lips as he glared off at Jack, who was busy taking the double’s cock out of his pants and stroking it up and down. Rhys licked his lips at the sight—Tim’s cock was slightly slimmer than Jack’s but longer, and curved cutely to the side. Despite the fact that they were meant to be identical, Rhys had come to decipher the differences between them, which were more obvious when both were undressed.

Tim—with Jack’s face—frowned, the genuine expression such a strange look to see on the CEO’s sharp, masked visage.

“Don’t get too used to it…I miss my abs…” Tim bemoaned, reaching down to poke the small stomach creeping over his waistband as he looked forlornly over to where his boss was fondling his body.

“Tim…” Jack growled, one hand on his dick and the other giving Timthe finger. “Shut up and fuck my boyfriend.”


	11. Day 5: Humiliation, Cuckolding, Rhackothy

“Funny how the big bad Handsome Jack can’t even break a couple little ropes…”

Tim grabbed Rhys’ harshly by the hips, putting a smirk on his face as he looked over to where Jack was bound against a chair, pushed right up against the bed. Rhys’ tie had been balled up and stuffed into the CEO’s mouth, leaving him unable to do anything more other than glare and growl through the gag. Despite the fact that it was Jack who had agreed to this and initiated it in the first place, it was still thrilling for Tim to see his boss so helpless as he pushed his own cock deep inside of Rhys’ yielding body.

“No wonder Rhys decided to come to me. There’s no reason someone like him needs to be with someone so…impotent.” Tim was probably going to get in trouble for some of these lines later, but for now he was going to enjoy it. He lifted Rhys’ hips up, getting a better angle as he thrust in and glanced across the kid’s prostate, making him moan and wriggle.

“He needs someone who can actually keep up with him, actually _satisfy_ him,” Tim growled, flush with pleasure as he watched Jack’s eyes widen with fury, shamed blush coloring his cheeks. Rhys cried out with every thrust, shifting against the bed as he grasped for purchase against the sheets.

“T- _Tim—“_ Rhys whimpers, and the double could practically see Jack’s eyes glaze over red. The CEO snarls through the gag, jerking violently against his restraints. Tim’s composure shivers for a moment, before his slides his hands under Rhys’ and lifts him up off the bed, biting against his warm neck as he buries himself deep inside. He squeezes Rhys’ cock, his cum splattering against his stomach as Tim releases a moment later, filling him up with warm seed as Jack watches with rage.

Tim’s not sure he’s going to survive the aftermath of this, so he closes his eyes and relishes in the pleasure, for now.


	12. Day 6: Size Difference, Rhack, DigiRhack

Rhys thought holograms were supposed to be…you know… _holograms_. Computer programs. Capital “I” intangible. So seriously not capable of being able to give him a fist bump or a hug, much less, uh…put their cocks up his ass.

And yet that’s exactly what was happening to him.

Rhys’ eyes rolled pathetically, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as a bright, glowing orange cock shoved into from behind. One warm, _huge_ hand pressed against his lower back, bending his spine downwards as he was roughly fucked by the massive hologram that Jack had summoned, presumably for this exact purpose.

“ _Ooh_ , that’s good. That’s real good,” came Jack’s amused groan. Rhys could barely see him out of the corner of his watering eye, the CEO fiddling with the same glowing blue watch he’d been playing around with before this massive, _solid_ hologram had materialized out of thin air. Rhys’ vision was suddenly awash with even more tangerine pixels, drawing his eyes upwards to see another huge, Jack hologram towering above him. It was already fiddling with its crotch, unzipping its jeans and yanking out another massive cock that Rhys could practically feel the heat off of.

He willingly opened his mouth, lips stretched wide as the thick head of the hologram’s cock pushed into his mouth, filling his cheeks to the brim as it dipped towards the back of his throat. Rhys practically choked before forcing himself to relax and stabilize his breathing even as it was fucked out of him from behind.

“C’mon, sweethearts, be a little more _rough_ with him. Give daddy a show.” Came Jack’s encouraging purr, and before Rhys realized it he was being lifted bodily by two pairs of hands and _rotated_ , like meat on a spit, until he was being held off the ground facing upwards.

Rhys moaned in shock at the sudden shift, being forced to look up at the eagerly grinning faces of the blowing orange holograms above him, but oddly enough Rhys felt…. _safe_ , this way, being cradled between two massive projections who were strong enough to both hold him and pleasure him at the same time. For the first time since this began he felt truly, _truly_ able to relax and enjoy the perplexing satisfaction for what it was.


	13. Day 6: Bondage, Telepathic Bonds, Rhack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omegaverse in this one!

“I love you,” Rhys whispers, kissing between Jack’s eyebrows, “you know that, right?”

And Jack’s not sure what he would say to that if he could speak, because words have always stripped away all doubt, all ability to hand-wave his own emotional vulnerability with a joke or insult. Thankfully, Rhys has already buckled the ball gag into his mouth, letting the question hang in peaceful rhetoric in the warm air between their bodies.

Instead, Rhys allows him to relax and _feel_ it. The omega touches his mate’s helpless body as he straddles his tightly bound thighs, nuzzling their noses together. Warmth and arousal blooms from his body as Rhys reaffirms their bond over and over again, the loving, enamored feelings blossoming around inside of Rhys taking root inside of his alpha’s body. Jack lets out a relieved sigh around the gag, nuzzling Rhys back as the omega kisses along his face, eventually meeting their lips together.

Rhys barely has to touch his cock in order for him to come, Jack’s blood already pumping full of the pleasant, calming feelings shared between them.


	14. Day 7: Creampie, Cross-dressing, Rhack

Jack loved the accessibility inherent in dresses and skirts, even something as heavy and long as the fancy evening gown Rhys was wearing. It was pretty poofy, fanning out from the tight, revealing bodice, and while it had taken some effort to get the hem up and over Rhys’ hips, its volume did well to hide the way Jack was currently pumping in and out of his pretty little date on one of the upper balconies overlooking the dance floor.

Jack liked these fancy galas well enough, as long as the booze and food and eye candy kept flowing free. People were constantly clamoring to rub shoulders with him, and he wasn’t the type to turn his nose up at the circle-jerk of an ego boost that came from being in a room full of networking businessmen and gold-digging hustlers.

But the crown jewel of the evening had been Rhys—like it always was, in Jack’s eyes, but tonight even more so considering the elegant, midnight blue evening gown Jack had bought him specifically for the event. It perfectly accented both his turquoise tattoos and the sleek, obsidian prosthetic that hammered home that Jack had the god-damn money to outfit his squeeze both with the finest fashion _and_ the finest tech.

And if anyone had a problem with a guy wearing a dress, they at least had the sense to keep their mouths shut. Jack had little issue painting the dance floor red with blood if anyone raised as much as a questioning eyebrow in Rhys’ direction.

But all thoughts of pear-clutching pricks had left his mind now that he was buried balls deep inside of his date. He rutted shallowly as he wrapped his arms around Rhys’ waist, kissing up the back of his neck and getting a nice whiff of his cologne. Definitely lighter and fruitier than the usual scent the young man liked, but scoured with an undeniably familiar, intense musk.

Rhys let out a cute little hiccup, his head lolling slightly from the amount of colorful drinks he’d tipped back down on the main floor. Jack himself was slightly tipsy, his brain that right amount of fuzzy to make the heat around his dick feel ten times better than it did when he usually had Rhys bent over things. Usually his desk, sometimes the granite counter back in the penthouse, or a fancy programming console. The fancy balcony was probably the most respectable thing he’s ever plowed Rhys against, and indeed the two of them were dressed to the nines to match its elegant dark wood railing, surface stenciled with bright inlaid gold.

“ _Nnngh_ , kiddo, I think I’m gonna… _ooh_ , yeah, I’m gonna come,” Jack panted against Rhys’ ear as he humped up against the kid’s ass.

 _“Jack_ ,” Rhys slurred in a protest, casting an affronted look over his shoulder, “don’t come inside….I don’t have any underwear.”

“Mmm, _yeah_ , but pumpkin you don’t want me to ruin this pretty little dress, do ya?” Jack rubbed his hands over the tight fabric of Rhys’ bodice, gripping his cinched waist as he thrust forward one last time, burying himself deep inside of the kid and filling him up with warm, sticky cum.

“ _Eww_ , Jack,” Rhys giggled drunkenly, legs going to jelly as he leaned his full weight on the balcony. Jack responded only with a pleased moan, kissing underneath the jewelry dangling from Rhys’ ear before he pushed back. He kept the hem of Rhys’ dress pushed up as he straightened up, slowly, _slowly_ pulling out of the kid in order to admire the sudden rush of cum that slid out around his cock.It dripped down the curve of his ass and down his inner thighs. Jack licked his lips, eyes glimmering.

“You come already, sweetheart?”

Rhys lolled his head back, glancing back over his shoulder with a tipsy smile.

“ _Noooo_ …”

Jack tapped his lips with a knowing smirk, before settling on knees behind Rhys’ ass and disappearing under the fluffy bell of his dress.


	15. Day 7: Body Worship, Rhysothy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans!Rhys in this one!

Rhys needed Tim’s support more than others somedays.

Usually, if Tim noticed his boyfriend stripping completely down, even removing his boxers and tossing them into the laundry basket, he knew it was his cue. He would approach Rhys carefully and start rubbing his shoulders, maybe even planting a kiss on the shell of Rhys’ ear if it seemed like it would help him relax.

Eventually, they would gravitate towards the bed, where Rhys would sit with his legs wide open, leaving enough room for Tim to kiss all the way down the middle line of his body, avoiding the spots he knew Rhys was anxious about and paying special attention to those he knew were super sensitive. He nosed and kissed down Rhys’ stomach, eliciting a light giggle from Rhys when he tickled too much. Laughter and arousal helped plenty to cut through the tension in Rhys’ body, and by the time Timothy’s lips were kissing over the damp opening between his boyfriend’s legs, Rhys was completely into it—relaxed and moaning happily, his fingers tangled in Timothy’s auburn hair as his boyfriend showed how much he loved him, no matter what.


End file.
